Like this:

This statement has been released by Aurat Raj, a radical left feminist group.

We see you, tripping all over yourselves trying to make the next viral facebook status/tweet/thinkpiece/comment on Qandeel Baloch, gleeful at the opportunity to be the next best feminist since Justin Trudeau, to lecture us on our oppression and theorise on our condition. A few quick points for you:

1) PASS THE MIC. Pass the mic to the women in your lives, on your timelines and newsfeeds, the ones who taught you this feminist vocabulary you drop, the ones who fought it out with you when you were (and are) arrogant and resistant, the ones you never cite, the ones whose intellectual labours are systematically erased and whose intellectual labours you appropriate. Share their posts. Retweet their tweets. Take up less space. The world does not need any more of your mental masturbations. When you feel so obligated to type something out – ask yourself, has a Pakistani woman already said this? Why don’t I just quote her? And while I’m at it why dont I just go on over to her wall and show her some appreciation and support? When a journalist approaches you for a quote – redirect them to a woman. Redistribute your space. Pass the mic.

2) We know you are all brilliant snowflakes and have a lot to say and we know exactly where you could be of use. We are being harassed, abused, threatened, attacked and silenced by men on a regular basis and in escalating levels all over social media and IRL. Intervene in these spaces. Walk the talk buddies. Do this not-so-sexy work that drains and destroys and kills us every day. Take the risks we take every day. Make your way on over to public pakistani feminist pages on social media and look at the comments. You can have a very real role here by responding and talking back to the men who constantly, aggressively try to drown out our voices and our message. But that’s a waste of time because where are YOUR pay-offs, right? Doesn’t matter if these men are MORE LIKELY to listen to and seriously engage with other cis-men – if it’s not visible, it doesn’t do much for your popularity, not enough chances of being quoted, re-tweeted and published. But here’s the deal – this is where you can actually leverage your male privilege and create legit push-back. Get your hands dirty – we want to be able to count on you, where it matters.

3) Stop lecturing us on how to understand or address our own oppression. For eg: We’re quite sick of men pointing out that women are women’s worst enemies. They’re not – patriarchy is structured to pit women against each other. Stop perpetuating this trope to evade responsibility. Don’t engage us in pedantic debates or issue arrogant correctives or subject us to your theorisations on what our resistance should look like. All this mansplaining is a waste of everyone’s energies. We are afraid and exhausted, and debating with you is very low on our list of priorities. Listen to us. And again, if you have so much to say – say it to those who are harassing, abusing, threatening, silencing, lecturing us. Say it to your family members, your colleagues, your drinking buddies, the guy sitting next to you on the metro. Say it to those who are threatening and abusing us on social media.

Like this:

We, the undersigned, condemn the murder of Qandeel Baloch by her brother, Waseem, and demand that the government put the alleged killer on trial.

Qandeel, born Fouzia Azeem, was a rebel, an artist, and a gutsy feminist provocateur. Her sensual social media videos cajoling, mocking and subtly lampooning male politicians, sports stars, and the clergy brilliantly exposed the hypocrisies of a patriarchal society dominated by a narrow-minded, self-righteous moral police.

In the month prior to her death, Pakistani media attacked her after after selfies of her with Mufti Qavi, a senior cleric, went viral on social media. Qavi had previously attacked another female actress, Veena Malik, for her alleged lack of respectability on television. The photos, taken in Qavi’s hotel room, show Qandeel playfully wearing the mufti’s cap. As Qavi attempted to salvage his reputation as a righteous religious cleric by shifting blame, Qandeel fired back in characteristic fashion: shedeclared that the cleric was in love with her and that he was the “Qandeel Baloch of maulvis.” The sarcastic remark cut right to the heart of the cleric’s — and by extension, the religious establishment’s — hypocrisy. After her death, Qavi threateningly declared that her murder will serve as an example to all who attempt to disgrace the clergy.

Today, we hold the Pakistani media complicit in her death. We hold those journalists, editors, directors and owners responsible who leaked private details of her life. They publicized her marriage, her child, knowing the dangerously sexist conditions in this country. They berated her and thereby prepared the way for her to be killed.

We also hold the politicians and security services accountable who failed to protect her even as she publicly pleaded to them for protection. She wrote to the Interior Ministry, to the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA) and to the Senior Superintendent of Islamabad — to no avail.

We demand accountability. We demand that the state and judiciary be especially vigilant and not allow her killer to be forgiven under the country’s misogynistblood-money qisas and diyatlaws.

We also want to make two things clear:

Qandeel was not Kim Kardashian, as some media accounts have erroneously noted. She was our Qandeel: a working class woman, a Third World feminist, a disrupter, and firebrand who dared to do as she pleased, despite threats to her life.

Qandeel was not killed for “honor.” She was killed because an inordinately fragile, male ego couldn’t handle her flame. She was killed because a pervasive misogynistic culture cultivates and protects a toxic masculinity. She was killed because patriarchal structures sustain unequal gender relations with both men and women believing that violence against women is unremarkable, ordinary, and even deserved.

In that context, women can be killed for economic gain, for ego or for any number of reasons, and all of it is justified because, in the final calculation, the female body count does not seem to matter.

We bury Qandeel Baloch alongside 16-year-old Ambreenburned to death in Abbottabad, Pakistan as punishment for helping a friend escape to marry her beloved; 31-year-old Maria Nemethdisemboweled by her boyfriend Fidel Lopez in Florida, United States; 27-year-old Farkhundabeaten to death by a mob in Kabul, Afghanistan; 37-year-old Miriam Nyazemastabbed 26 times by her British soldier Josphat Mutekedza; the multiple victims of Elliot Rodger a violent, anti-woman killer with a manifesto in California, United States.

We bury our sister and comrade Qandeel Baloch alongside thousands of our sisters who have been murdered to protect misogyny, patriarchy and male fragility.

Just three days prior to her murder Qandeel wrote:

“As a women (sic) we must stand up for ourselves. As a women we must stand up for each other…As a women we must stand up for justice. I believe that I am a modern day feminist. I believe in equality. I need not to choose what type of women should be. I don’t think there is any need to label ourselves just for sake of society. I am just a women with free thoughts free mindset and I LOVE THE WAY I AM. :)”